The Sherlock Holmes Show
by TheHelelelickenInitiative
Summary: Sherlock, star of the show- but he doesn't know. Sherlock Holmes is a man whose life is a nonstop TV show. Sherlock doesn't realize that his quaint hometown is a giant studio set run by a visionary producer/director/creator, that folks living and working there are Hollywood actors. People from all over try to get him to see, to realize. None have worked harder than Molly Hooper. AU
1. Chapter 1

The Sherlock Holmes Show

Rating: T (Rating may change throughout the story.)

Author's note: Thank you so, so, much **MorbidbyDefault** for letting me use this idea! Check her out on tumblr: **morbidmegz** she's one of the best writers I've ever read, she has _amazing_ sherlolly fics. (I'm sure most of you already know her on fanfiction.)

* * *

"_We've become bored with watching actors. Give us phony emotions. We're tired of pyrotechnics and special effects. While the world he inhabits… is, in some respects, counterfeit, there's nothing fake about the Sherlock Holmes himself- No scripts, no cue cards. It isn't always Shakespeare, but it's genuine. It's a life."_

* * *

Sherlock huffs as he's pacing, he hasn't had a case in so long. What was wrong with London? It almost seemed as though they had a perfectly scheduled criminal activity and then went on this "clean slate" for a bit just to throw him off. He needed the lab. He needed to experiment. He needed to do _something._ Especially since John found and disposed of his cigarettes.

(It was a very difficult item to find and to this day John still doesn't want to talk about it.)

* * *

"Well, for me, there's no difference between a private life and a public life." Mycroft nods softly as if trying to completely convince himself he really _believed_ that, "My life… My life is The Sherlock Holmes Show. It's a lifestyle. It's a…" Mycroft looks off camera before returning, "Noble life, and" He smiled, "a truly blessed life."

* * *

Sherlock grew restless and threw his coat on. Halfway in to putting on his scarf he yelled out to Mrs. Hudson, "Won't be home in a while, do have a good night, Mrs. Hudson."

Mrs. Hudson smiled sweetly at him and waved as he ran off to find a cab. "That boy…" she whispered to herself before back into her flat she went.

* * *

"It's all true. It's all real. _Nothing_ here is untrue. Nothing you see one this show is fake. It's-" John Watson rubbed the back of his neck, sighing softly and, "It's merely controlled."

* * *

Sherlock was re-reading some cases, thinking about how brilliant he was and, ignoring the cabbie as he tried to make idle chit-chat. He sent off a text to Margaret, warning her he was in a cab, heading over there.

(Last time he came un-announced she kicked him out because she did _not_ do autopsies in front of people.)

_Be cautious of your cabbie. _

Sherlock furrowed his brows. What exactly did she mean? She obviously wasn't watching him but he looked around anyway. When he was _completely_ sure she wasn't anywhere near him he fired a text.

_What exactly do you mean?_

_-SH_

Sherlock tried to deduce his cabbie. He tried to find anything dangerous about this man. Other than that he was dangerously boring, there was nothing that Sherlock had nothing to be cautious about. Margaret hadn't responded to him and he got irritated. What did she know that he didn't? How did she know what cab he was taking?

(Sherlock moved on when he realized she might have just been watching those idiotic thriller movies.)

* * *

"Ah, Sherlock!"

"Mike!" Sherlock mocked his tone.

"Margaret," Mike nodded to her and she tentatively nodded back, uncomfortable now that he was in the room. "New tea in the Cafeteria today Sherlock, try it, would you?"

Sherlock took the cup and sniffed it.

"What is it?"

Mike visibly brightened.

"It's Twinings! 300 years of loyal service and _great _flavor!" Mike was looking off somewhere and Sherlock tried to find where he was gazing at but there was nothing there.

"Hardly new then, isn't it? Mike, are you alright? Never mind I don't really care. Just, get some help if you need it for god's sake you were staring off into nothing," Sherlock sipped the tea, finding it absolutely ordinary, "tea was fine, thank you."

Mike chuckled at his joke and shook his head, walking out without a word.

* * *

Molly played with her thumbs, watching him think for a bit. Yes, _Molly, _although it's hardly a nickname for Margaret she preferred Sherlock to call her anything but what everyone else calls her.

"Em… how was your day?" she seemed, sad.

(Because she_ knew_.)

"Ah, boring, no cases, no cigarettes, it's like the whole of London is deliberately making me bored just to see if I would kill a man." He rolled his eyes, sipping some more of his tea.

"Don't give them any ideas…" She muttered to herself. She froze when she realized Sherlock _heard _her and was waiting for her to elaborate.

"Who is "they", Margaret?"

"Molly, please-" she sighed softly, trying to steady her emotions, "don't call me Margaret… and-"

Sherlock raised his eyebrows.

* * *

"Wait, what is she doing? Oh my god! Someone get her out of there, someone-"

The man stopped fussing when a dainty yet somehow manly hand flew in front of his face. He looked confused, "Mr. Moriarty?"

"She wouldn't dare."

* * *

"N-nothing I uh… misspoke."

Sherlock squinted, sipping his tea and looking at her, waiting for her to break.

"You seem a bit angry, Margaret. Is there something wrong?" He was up on his feet in seconds, "Anything… _unsolved _I could do?"

Molly giggled slightly, ignoring him calling her Margaret- he'll get it eventually- and shook her head, "No, no nothing like that." Sherlock deflated and returned to his stool, finishing off the tea, "I was just thinking about those reality TV shows, do watch them?"

"I am familiar with trash telly."

"Well, I was just wondering why people find it entertaining. They're watching every minute of that person's life and how anyone…" she looked away, peering into the security camera above, "_anyone_ would be happy living that life, always surrounded by cameras."

* * *

James Moriarty frowned, he knew she wasn't going to say a word, but in a way she was trying to manipulate the audience. It didn't matter; no one would listen to her. She didn't count, not really. But they would not kill her off; there was talk of making her a love interest.

(Although Sherlock was definitely making that difficult.)

* * *

Sherlock rolled his eyes.

"You shouldn't waste your intelligent mind thinking about such dribble. Let's just go with they're all idiots." He smiled briefly at her before tapping his foot, wondering what he should experiment on now.

She smiled unenthusiastically. She sighed, this wasn't going well.

What did she expect? She wasn't even escorted out. Even they knew, she would guess the audience did too, that she didn't count…

But she would keep trying! It was horrible what they were doing to this poor man, it was in-humane. Molly would stop at nothing to make things right. To get Sherlock Holmes _off_ of this horrid show.


	2. Chapter 2

The Sherlock Holmes Show

Rating: T (Rating may change throughout story)

Author's Note: I just moved, I'm sick and there's no internet. My god, my eyes are so puffy I don't know how I can see the screen. But! The plus side to that is I'm not distracted so I can write! **Morbidbydefault: **Thank you so much! That's exactly where I was going with that. :) **Guest:** Thank you! I hope you make your way back here! **Mols: **I really hope you haven't given up on me! Look, I updated! Thank you!  
So without further ado here's chapter two!

**CHAPTER 2:**

"Sherlock…"

Sherlock did not lift his head as he hummed, letting her know he heard her.

"Um…" Molly was dreading asking him this question. The producers asked her to try and get him to have dinner with her. It shouldn't have been too hard, she'd been to drama school for eight years, but during this whole role of 'pathologist' Molly indeed grew quite infatuated with him.

(She had to take an entire year studying medicine and pathology before actually entering the show.)

"Out with it Molly, you know how I hate hesitance."

"O-okay, Sherlock…Would you like to have dinner? You know, after my shift?

"Dinner?" Sherlock's head lifted from the microscope, Molly gained all his attention and when she took a step forward and put her hands on his chest he froze.

Molly's heart was racing.

(Underneath her palm she felt Sherlock's heart speed up but maybe she imagined it.)

She was really doing this. Her hand was slightly trembling and she _could not_ believe she was being so bold. Jim would kill her.

* * *

James felt the corner of his mouth twitch. This was _delicious_. His little kitten was _finally_ doing something right for the show.

"Button cam two," He ordered the person next to him. Man jumped and fumbled to sit upright and look for the correct button to press.

Molly Hooper's button was showing Sherlock's shocked face. His eyes drifted from her hands and all the way up her arms and what seemed to be her face.

(Words could not express James' joy when Sherlock looked directly at the button and the general… _area_ that the button was in.)

* * *

Molly worried her bottom lip. She looked directly into his deep blue orbs when they flickered back to hers. Her hands slid down his chest, over his taught stomach and atop his thighs. She swallowed, extremely nervous and she prayed he didn't throw her off in disgust.

* * *

"Beautiful. I almost don't want to interrupt them."

James' smirk grew, "_Almost_."

* * *

A knock on the door made Molly jump. Sherlock did not look away from her, especially not when she placed a tiny piece of paper that was in her sleeve in his front trouser pocket. Sherlock exhaled a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"Mol- Margaret? I'm coming in, is Sherlock-"

John Watson came through the door and Molly sighed out of relief. Although John wasn't going to risk his acting job, he did feel terrible for what he was doing unlike the others.

(This made Molly more relaxed around him.)

"Hello, John!" Molly smiled, taking a step away from Sherlock and tried not to burn up under his intense gaze.

"Hello John, I am indeed here with Margaret"

John pointed between the two but 'decided' to let it go.

"I was just- um looking for you. We have a few clients at the flat now."

Sherlock was all ears. He would read the note from Margaret later; there were certainly more interesting things at hand. He grabbed his coat and hopped of the chair, walking over to John.

"Bye, Molly," John cringed. He really didn't want to lose this job, he was a great actor! He just _needed_ to stop messing up Molly's name, "Sorry, Margaret. See you later."

"It's fine…" Molly's words soaked with disappointment. But she knew Sherlock would read her note. She knew it.

"Yes, _see you later._"

Molly smiled brightly at Sherlock. Despite being himself, Sherlock smiled at her, walking off with John.

Molly nodded to herself. Everything was going great. It was three days until Christmas and by the time 221b had their Christmas party, Sherlock should _know._


	3. Chapter 3

The Sherlock Holmes Show

Rating: T (Rating may change throughout story)

Author's Note: Thank you too **MorbidbyDefault** for reviewing! I'm really glad you like it!

**CHAPTER 3:**

"Are we here?" John tentatively looked around. This wasn't the spot where he was told it was going to be.

"Two streets away, but this will do." Sherlock fidgeted and slightly bounced, as if he was preparing for something.

"For what?"

"Punch me in the face."

"… Punch you." John thought back to James, he was sure his boss wouldn't mind a little roughhousing on his "Little Boy".

"Yes, punch me in the face, didn't you hear me?"

"I always hear 'punch me in the face' when you're speaking but it's usually subtext," John didn't miss a heartbeat.

"Oh for God's sakes," Sherlock huffed, immediately throwing a punch to dear Watson.

(John was thankful for his training on a real military field with all the other actors trying out for the part, it definitely toughened him up.)

Sherlock took a deep breath, knowing that John would punch back.

(God help John, he put out all his frustrations into that one punch.)

Sherlock went down so fast when John clubbed him that John was afraid he might have gone a bit too far.

Though as soon as he got up with a bit of a bloodied cheek trying to thank John, he immediately went into him character and tackled Sherlock to the ground.

* * *

James flinched as John put Sherlock into a head lock. He wasn't worried, in fact he laughed a bit, it was all too comical. James knew John wouldn't take it too far; this is the role of a lifetime for him.

(Once more James chuckled to himself because it was _literally _the role of a lifetime.)

"Adorable," He said mostly to himself, "send a cab," he ordered the man next to him.

As the man complied, James smirked, shooting off a text to his next little player in this game.

* * *

As Sherlock waited for this Irene Adler to show, he pulled out the little paper out of his pocket that Molly slipped in during their little… chat.

_Sherlock Holmes, it's all a lie. If you haven't figured it out by now, please come meet me at Bart's at 10. I'll take you somewhere and explain it all. Don't take too long or this chance may never happen again. It has to be __now__. –Molly x_

Sherlock furrowed his brows at the note.

"A lie…" He murmured to himself. What did she mean? Each time he met Molly Hooper she was getting more and more mysterious.

(By god, he would even say she fascinates him.)

"I'm sorry to hear you were hurt…"

Upon hearing the voice of the woman he knew was Irene Adler Sherlock immediately returned to his priest character and worked up some tears. He slightly dabbed his bloodied cheek with Molly's note and he cursed himself internally because now he wouldn't be able to deduce it properly.

"…I don't think Kate caught you name."

Show time.

"I-I'm so sorry, I-I'm-"

There stood the quite naked form of Irene Adler.

* * *

"My word, porno stars?"

The two barista's stared up at the screen whilst polishing their cups. One with crazily teased black-haired up do the other with nicely cropped blonde hair. Their name tags read Charlotte and Kate.

"'Ow do you know she's a porn star, Kate?"

Kate scoffed, "I'm a perfectly happy sexually active woman and I know what I like. That's Irene Adler from multiple S&M websites. She usually works at home making pretty mediocre stuff, but hot none the less. Guess they're thinking of getting Sherlock to lose that virginity he's got. Making her the love interest or something, I dunno, I don't think it'll work."

"That's all well for you, but I fought those hussies weren't fit for the big screen?"

Kate scratched the back of her head carefully not to mess up her complex hairstyle. She looked over to her friend briefly and returned to the screen so she doesn't lose her place.

"You're being ignorant, Char. They're actors like the rest of that lot."

Charlotte pouted slightly. She was an immense fan of the show, so naturally she had theories and all about it. She did not like the fact that James was forcing Sherlock into something.

"Poor boy, 'e is, deserves a woman who properly loves him and won't give 'im STD's."

"Like Molly Hooper."

The two barista's turned their heads to pay attention to the client now voicing her opinion.

"What ya mean, dear?"

The girl pointed to a drink on the chalkboard menu and Kate immediately got to work, still listening in to what she had to say.

"Well, she seems to love him truly, doesn't she? I mean her jitters when she's around him, her bright smile when he's around, all that stuff."

"That's gotta be in the script," Kate settled down the drink and the woman accepted happily.

"Naw, Kate, s'more than that. The girl's right, she loves him. She is going to… tell him."

Kate's eyes looked like they were going to bulge out of their sockets.

"What?"

The girl blushed slightly, turning bashful, "I have an I.D, I swear."

Charlotte smirked at the girl and shook her head.

"No, love. You don't."

Kate grabbed her friend's shoulder frantically, desperate for more information.

"Hello, more important things at hand! She's going to tell him?"

Just when Charlotte was going to explain their manager came in and turned off the television, chastising them for wasting time.

"I'll tell you later."

* * *

Molly Hooper tapped her foot impatiently and looked at her watch for the thousandth time.

_10:45_

Molly chewed on her bottom lip.

"Please, please, please…" she prayed. She _needed_ Sherlock to show up, to call her or text her, or something! He couldn't go on living like this.

Molly squeaked when the loud thunder track played. It did not go unnoticed when it began to rain only in her spot.

"ARE YOU MOCKING ME, JIM?"

(When it rained harder Molly couldn't find the strength to stay up and fell to her knees in tears.)

* * *

_Want to grab lunch? Have to talk to you._

Molly uselessly used her soaked sleeve to try to remove some of the mud on her phone screen as she walked through the dark empty streets of London. John wanted to talk to her?

This should interesting.


	4. Chapter 4

The Sherlock Holmes Show

Rating: T (Rating may change throughout story)

Author's Note: **ladylillianrose**: I'm so glad you do! **elm87**: Woo, i'm so relieved you gave me a chance! **MorbidbyDefault**: I can't believe I made it to your expectations! I really should be thanking you for giving me the idea!

Thank you all those who reviewed/followed/favorited!

**CHAPTER 4**:

"My god you're soaked…" John touched Molly's shoulder and grimaced at the freezing temperature of her coat. He shushed Molly as she tried to protest and led her into the employee's only room in the back of the bar. Inside was a dressing room where there was Irene Adler modeling Sherlock's signature coat with various poses. John sighed and smiled teasingly, "How many times am I going to see you naked today, Irene?"

"John!" Irene twirled in the coat and stopped abruptly when she noticed the shivering mess of a confused woman. Irene took a step forward and tentatively swiped Margaret's hair that clung to her skin away from her face. Upon noticing who it was Irene smiled slightly, "Ms. Hooper, we must get you out of those clothes."

Molly, albeit confused, almost felt another reason to be flushed. My god, this woman was _beautiful_. She'd never been so close to Irene before, she never needed to. Molly almost wanted to laugh at the innuendo.

"Irene, your character is showing."

John cleared his throat and placed a hand on Molly's shoulder as the girls turned their attention to John.

"As much as I would enjoy watching this continue, _Ms. Hooper_ is shaking down to her toes."

Irene giggled and took a step back allowing the fellow actress to strip away from her clothes and tie up her long locks into a top bun.

"Call me Molly, Irene."

Irene winked at her, letting her know she got the message.

John, being the theatre geek he is, wasn't fazed by the woman undressing down to her knickers. But when she hooked her thumbs into her knickers John blankly stared before realizing he should leave and shuffled out, commenting on the food he was going to order for the three of them.

"I didn't know the rain was on."

Molly now sported the belstaff trench coat that had Sherlock's nice scent. She sighed and wrapped it around herself for warmth as the naked Irene looked through the closet of costumes to put something on.

"Oh, it was. But only for me."

Irene quirked an eyebrow and she slipped on a robe, finding she didn't really didn't want to go to the trouble of changing. _That_ was certainly interesting. When James sought her out for this role he always did seem a bit… wicked.

(Though she would never voice her opinion, this was her first role outside of adult films she received in a long time.)

Molly raised her hand to stop Irene from saying anything.

"We'll talk with John."

* * *

"There are way too many women pining over Sherlock and his coat. One day and there's already been two naked bodies in there."

Irene rolled her eyes and nibbled on a chip.

"He's not any interest of mine. He's very intimidating, though." Irene leaned into her hand and looked over to Molly, "I don't know how you can stand so close to him, my pulse quickens."

Molly turned pink and ignored the question turning to John, "What were you going to tell me, John?"

John acted nonchalant as he grabbed a sharpie from his pocket and began writing on a napkin. Molly immediately understood what was happening and sent warning eyes to Irene's puzzled one. He obviously did not Jim to pick this up on the cameras.

"My doodling skills are definitely getting better," John brought out a smile and Molly faked a laugh and showed it to Irene whose eyes widened upon reading and then also giggled. John put on a face of mock hurt Molly shoved it in coat pocket without hesitation.

"What? What? _It'll get better_, I swear!"

Molly shook her head, "I am _definitely going to _be keeping this for when I need a good laugh."

Irene took a swig of her beer, "_Are you sure that a good idea?_ John's feelings may be hurt."

"They are hurt, actually," John was very calm on the outside but inside he was panicking, trying feel as calm as he looked.

Molly playfully shoved John and popped a chip in her mouth. She leaned in and gave John a kiss on his cheek and whispered in his ear, "_Thank you_," while she pulled back.

Irene looked between the two, contemplating on what she just read and the little alliance they were forming. It seemed like the right thing to do, but she just… she couldn't.

"_I can't_… poor," She looked into Molly's somber eyes and gulped down her guilt, "…John"

* * *

"Get Adler to return his coat, now."

* * *

The bartender called out for Irene and let her know the news. Molly's heart pounded in her chest. What if the bartender saw the note and told Jim? _No, you can't think that Molly._

Irene sighed and stood up, stretching out a hand to Molly.

"Come along, _Molly_. We're going to Baker Street."

John checked his watch and his eyes widened. He should be home in case Sherlock were to wake up.

"I'll go with you two-"

Molly shook her head, "No, John. Sherlock would smell your cologne or something on the coat. You have to take another cab."

John rubbed the back of his neck, pondering on the thought. He nodded, "Fine, have it your way girls. I'll see you two at the flat."

John went first, giving Molly and Irene a kiss on their cheeks out of habit.

"And _your _scent will be masked?"

Molly clutched onto the coat and looked away; embarrassed. Irene chuckled and grabbed her hand, leading her outside where a cab was waiting for them.

Molly after a while of driving Molly took out the napkin that she took from John.

_**I'm in. But we need another tactic then just telling him. He's smart enough, let's leave **__**blue's clues**__**.**_

Molly smiled down at the napkin and crumbled it up. She stuffed back in the pocket and smiled warmly at Irene when she placed her hand atop hers in a comforting manner.

* * *

"Do you think it's alright that Margaret's going there?"

Jim leaned forward in his chair and looked between the cab camera of Molly talking with Irene and the room camera of Sherlock tossing and turning in his bed.

"I'm sure it'll be… interesting."

* * *

"_I'm only returning your coat…"_

Irene kissed Sherlock's cheek bone and walked off without the robe. Molly- who was standing in the corner, shielded by the darkness- assured Irene Sherlock's eyes fluttered closed so she could walk off.

Molly wasn't sure if Sherlock was completely asleep or not. Still, she wore his coat and felt nice and warm because of it. So decided to return the favor and make him some tea- avoiding the body parts, of course.

When she placed it on his counter and heard his shuffle. Her breath caught in her throat as she threw the coat on the hanger and cursed harshly because of her nudity. She was in _Sherlock Holmes' _room NAKED! She covered her mouth to stop herself from making noise. She quickly crouched next to the bed and prayed he didn't wake up and notice her.

John barged in after hearing Sherlock and his eyes widened at Molly. Molly brought her finger up to her lips and shushed him silently. John nodded softly and that's when Sherlock was spouting things about the woman.


	5. Chapter 5

The Sherlock Holmes Show

Rating: T

Thank you **MorbidbyDefault **for reviewing, it makes me so happy!

**CHAPTER 5:**

"Where is she?"

John watched as his flat mate stumbled around, still coming off the drug. His eyes tentatively flickered over to a nude Molly, practically in tears. He inwardly prayed he hadn't seen Molly; that would be difficult to explain.

Dear god, he needed to get her out of there.

"Where is… who?"

"The woman, that woman," Sherlock slurred, having trouble balancing on his feet but convincing himself he was fine.

"What woman?" John tried to milk out of him. He knew Sherlock would get exasperated with him soon, but still he kept prodding.

"_The _woman," Sherlock hissed, "The woman, woman!"

"Oh Irene Adler?" Relief washed over him. He knew exactly what to say, "She got away. No one saw her. She wasn't here, Sherlock."

Sherlock fell to his knees, frantically searching for Irene.

"What're you-?" John's eyes widened and he immediately grabbed Sherlock's shirt and tugged him back, he was thankful for Sherlock's state because otherwise he would have heard Molly's little whimper, "No, no, no, no." He tried his best to lug the taller man up, groaning in the process, and shove him to bed, facing the wall, "Back to bed. You'll be fine in the morning, just sleep."

"Oooof course I'll be fine. I am fine. I'm absolutely fine."

John rolled his eyes, "Yes, you're great. I'll be next door if you need me."

"Why would I need you?" Sherlock muttered, failing to stay awake.

"No reason at all…" John cocked his head to the open door, reaching out for Molly.

(John will admit to his face heating up while Molly tried to regain some of her decency while rushing over to him.)

* * *

"How can this play out?"

Molly whispered, slipping on John's black and white jumper. Her eyelashes stuck together, wet from the unshed tears that threatened to fall during her slight anxiety attack in Sherlock's room. They both plopped on the couch, Molly draping her legs over John's lap. She was comfortable with John.

"Christmas Eve tonight… present?" John inquired, rubbing her bare legs when he noticed her shivering, for warmth.

Molly's eyes brightened at the idea, "Yes! I am, um, unsure of how we should _hint_ at him." Molly pulled at her hair tie, completely convinced she would get more ideas if her head stopped aching.

While thinking John traced patterns of Molly's skin absent-mindlessly, distant look in his eye. Molly rubbed her head, she _should_ have some sort of idea, but she wasn't very creative when it came to being a sleuth. In all of five years all she wanted to do was tell him before she was possibly killed off at Jim's hand.

"Margaret?"

The deep baritone voice made Molly petrified.

The pair on the couch twisted their bodies to look over to a disheveled appearance of Sherlock Holmes. His confused eyes bore into Molly and she could feel heat radiating through her and coloring her pale skin.

"Sherlock…" she muttered. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she avoided his gaze. He was probably busy but the sting of being stood up was still there.

"You look better," John piped up, clearly noticing the tension.

Sherlock looked over to John as if he just noticed he was in the room. His eyes then wandered down to Margaret's bare legs. John just then noticed his hand on her leg and removed it, suddenly being conscious of just how bad the position looks.

"Of course, I was fine," His gaze lingered before looking back up at John and forced out a smile. Sherlock swooped up the newspaper and sat at the table, purposefully avoiding looking at the two, "And Sarah, John?"

John cringed, "_Jeanette…_" He'd completely forgotten about the

"Going through a rough patch, are you? Decided to give our dear pathologist a go?" Sherlock smirked behind the article.

John sighed, "None of you business Sherlock."

* * *

Jim bit down on his knuckle, trying to stop from laughing hysterically.

"This is too _perfect_, is little Sherly jealous? Oh, god…" Jim pressed a few buttons on the control panel and watched as Molly slightly jumped at the buzzing that was going through her sleeve. Jim had planted little speakers on their clothes in case they were ever to _misplace_ the ones in their ears. Molly's trembling hand caused James chuckle once more as she placed it in her ear discreetly. James pressed the button on his Bluetooth.

"Whatever you're doing to cause this reaction Molly dear, keep going. You are simply amazing."

After Jim hung up the phone Molly cautiously looked over to Sherlock. What was he talking about? She didn't do anything.

It felt a little strange being confused for being in a relationship with John. The pair had become great friends during drama school, Molly immediately messaged John about the best friend roll in her show, she mostly wanted John there for moral support and did not want to encourage the show anymore yet John must have excelled the rest because he was in anyway.

Molly was sincerely grateful for John's support during this, five years and she still hasn't gotten Sherlock to _see_. And from how things are going, it looked like it would take more time.

Though Molly stayed silent and tried to ignore Sherlock's little scoff.

"Please-"

"Hoo-hoo!"

Thank god for Mrs. Hudson.

* * *

**Authors Note: **Next chapter, Sherlock's off the Adler case and Christmas at 221B has a bit of an unexpected twist while unwrapping presents. Hope you enjoyed the chapter, you all give me much inspiration!


	6. Chapter 6

The Sherlock Holmes Show

Rating: T

Thank you too: **Bookworm45669 **for reviewing!

**CHAPTER 6:**

"Mycroft's here Sherlock, new things about that case, I think. Do I let him up?"

"No."

"_Yes_," John corrected Sherlock. _At least someone is here to save us from this torture._ John felt his gaze land over to Molly, poor girl looked like she was about to burst with embarrassment. He gave her calf a comforting squeeze, sending her a wink. He was willing to play along, it was amusing the slight jealousy Sherlock showed. Actions spoke louder than words; _especially for Sherlock. _

Sherlock dropped the newspaper, fully prepared to bolt out if he needed to. John knew Sherlock hated un-solving a case. Especially if that case was given to him by his brother.

John wasn't there for the beginning of Sherlock's life, he knew the show existed though never gave it a chance. He knew Molly _was_ a bit in love with the show, adapted from her mother, before she ever actually got the opportunity to be on the show and fully understood what was happening. She showed him once when he sneaked off into her dorm after an intense audition during drama school ("Who would want to watch a 24 hour show anyway? Pure rubbish Molly, I'm telling you.") She did _try _to explain as much of Sherlock's life as she could from what her mother told her but John was lost by the _family _back story and he just switched the television off and proposed they read over the script they were given once more.

Though now he wished he'd paid attention, he often finds himself wondering what happened to cause this hate Sherlock had. He never spoke with Mycroft after the show; he was a very busy man. ("He's not _really _in the British government, he needs to relax.")

"The photographs are safe."

Sherlock's uninterested voice brought John out of his memories and back to the present. Mycroft wasn't even through the door before Sherlock spoke up. Molly was trying desperately to stretch John's jumper over her legs; overwhelmed by the amount of people now in the room. Mrs. Hudson was in the kitchen, making whatever she could with what little was in the fridge. Sherlock was trying to concentrate on the paper, though failing miserably.

"In the hands of a fugitive sex worker," Mycroft continued; disappointed. Fully entering the room, Mycroft shot Molly a smile, "Morning, Miss Hooper."

"Doctor."

"Doctor."

John and Sherlock's eyes both met for that second they corrected Mycroft, Sherlock looking down at the paper immediately.

"Y-yes, good morning, My- Mr. Holmes." Molly pulled a tentative smile at the 'man in high power'.

"Why'd you say that?" Sherlock asked, boring his eyes into her.

"What?" She answered, unsure of what he meant.

"_Ah…_"

Silence through the room. Sherlock certainly looked a bit embarrassed. _So that's how he looks when he's been caught in the dark. _It was probably Irene, though the throaty moan was not her usual sultry deep tone it was light, no doubt sexy. He turned to Molly, eyebrow raised. _What the hell did those girls do?_

"What was that?"

"Text." Direct and frankly a pathetic attempt of sounding nonchalant, Sherlock stood to check his phone, dismissing whatever was on the screen.

"But what was that noise?" Sherlock ignored John, spouting things off to Mycroft that he knew. John watched Molly hide behind her mousy hair and avoid looking up.

_Well that answers that._

"…Did you know there were other people after her too, Mycroft, before you sent John and I in there? CIA-trained killers, at an excellent guess." Sherlock cocked his head slightly, clearly trying to mask his annoyance.

Finally tearing his eyes away from Molly, John interjected, "Yeah, _thanks_ for that Mycroft, by the way."

Mrs. Hudson practically threw the plates of breakfast onto the table, "It's a disgrace, sending your little brother into danger like that. Family is all we have in the end, Mycroft Holmes," she was very stern with her words, finishing her little speech of wisdom with a hand on her popped hip.

Mycroft was _not _having it.

"Oh, shut up Mrs. Hudson!"

"Mycroft!"

"Oi!"

Thank god Molly placed a hand on John's chest to stop him from beating Mycroft. Sometimes he forgets it's just acting, Mrs. H has been so kind and lovely. She was like the mother he wished he had. Someone to look up to, for her age the woman can _act_.

Right now she looked horrified.

"Apologies," Mycroft said contritely.

"Thank you," A bit more satisfied now, Mrs. Hudson threw out a smile and walked away, probably to go home.

"Though do, in fact, shut up," Sherlock said returning to the paper.

"_Sherlock_," Molly scolded; staring in disbelief.

"Molly, you of all people should not lecture me on what's inappropriate or not," Sherlock smiled dryly.

Molly deflated at that. She looked to John before down at her bare thighs, slightly ashamed. John did not like that one bit, he wanted to give her a hug but maybe when she was actually wearing some undergarments. He tugged at one of her pinky toes and gave her a warm smile when she looked up. She smiled softly, definitely a Molly thing to do. She was so optimistic all the time.

A cell phone ring and Mycroft was headed towards the door, "'Scuse me."

"_Ah…_"

"Bit crude isn't it?" Molly muttered, toying with her hair.

"I'm wondering who could have got hold of your phone, because it would have been in your coat, wouldn't it?" John was more than willing to go on a teasing lilt after what Sherlock said to Molly.

Sherlock lifted the newspaper, obscuring his face.

"I'll leave you to your deductions."

"We're not stupid, Sherlock."

"What _ever _gave you that idea, Molly?"

"Bond Air is go, that's decided. Check with the Coventry lot. Talk later."

Sherlock looks to Mycroft, clearly more interested in the case.

"What else does she have?"

Mycroft looks at him enquiringly. Sherlock, now standing took a step closer to Mycroft.

"Irene Adler. The Americans wouldn't be interested in her for a couple of compromising photographs. There's more. _Much_ more. Something big's coming, isn't it?"

During the scene, Mycroft was stone faced. Still and cold, like ice. But from what John could see Mycroft had a very slight smile on his face as he said this:

"Irene Adler is no longer any concern of yours. From now on you will stay out of this."

"Oh, _will _I?" He locked eyes with his brother. Such fierce tension in the room and Molly joined John in staring with interest at the scene in front of them.

"Yes, you will. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a long and arduous apology to make to a very old friend."

Sherlock picked up his violin, "Do give her my love."

Mycroft left with that and Sherlock began playing 'God Save the Queen', answering John's question on who the woman in question was. It was like they disappeared to the detective. Sherlock lost himself in playing and Molly looked lost herself. Lost in his music, his concentration, or maybe even her little plan. But John knew one thing for sure; Molly Hooper was _definitely _in love with Sherlock Holmes.

* * *

"_Come on_, Sherlock, I told you for the millionth time, there's nothing going on with me and Molly-"

"Molly and I. And I did not ask you a million times, I don't care. Why would I care?"

"You were so jealous; don't even play that card with me!"

Sherlock stalked away, leaving John alone in the kitchen. Molly left; feeling like Sherlock was mentally kicking her out. John sighed, hearing the door slam that reminded him of Harry on her tantrum days.

* * *

"I have an idea…"

"Hm?"

Molly smiles at John's busy tone. He was probably fixing things up for the party in a few hours. She took his jumper with her while she got to her apartment. It hung in her closet along with a lot of the others she's taken from him. Now she was sitting on her bed, a mess of wrapping paper and different ribbons all over her sheets.

"The present, the first of many paw prints. I've got it! The early years of life, _his _life, there was a scandal in the manor; yelling, crying, affairs. Although he was young, he was still taught his ways."

"Mhm…"

"The picture, there was a picture, a picture he picked up, a family picture. Maybe that might stir things up."

* * *

"Oh my, look at her, she's so happy. Let's see how Sherlock will feel of her happy sentiments. Let's _stir some stuff up _ourselves," James outlined Molly's body on one of the thousands of camera screens. He tapped on the screen, finding some slight peace in the clinking noise. Like champagne glasses giving cheers on a beautiful Christmas night. He hummed 'We Wish You a Merry Christmas' softly to himself, ignoring the slightly concerned faces of his workers.

"Send her the dress," he ordered without looking away.


End file.
